


Coward

by desole (tearyxz)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Jackson-centric, M/M, basically jackson angsting over broken!markson, broken!markson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7390810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearyxz/pseuds/desole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s remarkable how far delusions can carry. But it’s even more remarkable how fast reality can catch up and slap you in the face so hard you’re spinning, falling to the ground as everything rushes to your head at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coward

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted 20160704.

It’s remarkable how far delusions can carry. But it’s even more remarkable how fast reality can catch up and slap you in the face so hard you’re spinning, falling to the ground as everything rushes to your head at once.

Trembling fingers pick up the slim card only to toss it away, as if distance could blunt the message, water it down until it melted through the floorboards into nonexistence. The armchair sinks as it’s burdened with a heavy weight, the silence in the room broken by sharp inhales and exhales, gradually increasing in pace until it’s frantic, fingers coming up to grip hair from the roots, tugging harshly as if it was an anchor to keep from losing control on the floodgate of emotions.

Gradually, the breathing slows but it becomes heavier, each breath taking every ounce of energy to stay even.

A humorless chuckle escapes but it catches on the end of Jackson’s breath, the end result sounding more like a cough.

He’s pathetic, really. Even when he’d received the call, the ecstatic voice from the other side nearly blubbering in its eagerness to share the joyous news, he’d been deluding himself. Even when he was face to face with those eyes, those shining eyes, when that slim body had been folded in his own arms and his own body squeezed by the those arms, that warm breath tickling his neck as the news was whispered against his ear, he’d been calm. Even when those matching rings were displayed before his eyes he’d betrayed no inner turmoil, only embracing the happy couple as he grinned, ruffling hair and slapping backs in congratulations.

He tells himself he’d just been numb, unable but react in the moment but Jackson knows better. He knows he’s just a coward, a sniveling coward that hides behind blustery laughs and dirty jokes and absurd amounts of skinship. That even his blunt honesty is shallow, a decoy for others so caught up in the scandalous nature of his words that they don’t care to dig deeper.

The truth is Jackson’s done such a good job at fooling others, he’s fooled himself too. Fooled himself into thinking that this wouldn’t happen eventually, that eventually Mark would get tired and move on or Jinyoung would get tired and move on or they would get into a fight or they’d realize they weren’t really compatible, that something didn’t _click_. He’d disregarded that their relationship had lasted three long years, ignored the all the signs of Mark slowly moving in with Jinyoung and even convincing himself it was only for convenience’s sake when Mark finally tells him outright.

He pretends not to see the way Mark looks at Jinyoung, of how his gaze has changed from the star-struck adoration of initial infatuation into something much more subtle, an affection that softens his eyes, calm and peace and trust reflected in the depths.

It’s ironic, really, that the catalyst for his first real confrontation with reality is a flimsy card, so fragile in its elegance and golden embroidered borders it’s laughable. Jackson could burn it, shred it, or simply throw it out and pretend he never received it. Evidence so _easy_ to be rid of.

But instead here he is, shaking, forced to reckon with reality by a _wedding invitation_.

Robotically, his arm digs into his back pocket to bring out his phone, fingers tapping out a message methodically.

_Finally got it!! Kekeke I don’t know if I can make it tho…what do I do? :3_

_Haha just kidding, of course I’ll be there! I’m Best Man, aren’t I, can’t let my bro down on the most important day of his life, now can I? ;)_

He presses send almost too easily; indeed, he wrote the entire message much too easily. But old habits die hard.

Jackson tosses his phone aside and hears it land with a thump somewhere on the carpet to his left.

And yet, when it buzzes a few moments later, Jackson finds himself getting up to retrieve it.

 _Hehe of course you gotta be there. Thanks bro, for being there from the beginning._ _J_

Jackson’s fingers are no longer steady as he types back a response.

_Pshhh that’s my job, what would you do without me? ;))_

This time, the second the message is sent Jackson turns his phone off, dropping it on the floor carelessly as he sinks back into the chair, memories threatening to overwhelm.

_“So, what’s up?”_

_Jackson forces himself to lift his eyes from Mark’s lips, which his teeth are gnawing at nervously._

_“Jinyoung…he confessed to me.”_

_“So, what’s the big deal?” Jackson feels a pang somewhere in his chest but the sensation is quickly brushed off; none of Mark’s relationships have lasted all that long anyways. This one will be no different and he’ll have plenty of time to sort out his own feelings later._

_“It’s just…”Mark’s brow is furrowed and Jackson wants to reach over to smooth it out. So he does, earning a half-hearted smack in response. “Hey, I’m trying to be serious here.”_

_“Sorry.” Jackson isn’t sorry at all and Mark knows that, but he only rolls his eyes and continues._

_“It’s just…Jinyoung’s a good friend, you know? I’ve never thought about him that way until he suddenly confessed. And now I’m confused.”_

_Jackson feels another pang, as Mark’s words hit a bit too close to home, but his expression doesn’t change._

_“What makes Jinyoung so different?”_

_Mark shrugs. “I dunno, none of the people I’ve dated so far were really “just friends” to begin with. Like, even from the start there would be that attraction. You know what I’m saying? I’ve just never thought about Jinyoungie that way before. Kinda like with you, ya know?”_

_Jackson stops breathing for a second. Luckily, Mark is still talking._

_“But now that he’s confessed, I can kinda see him in a different light. I don’t like him like that yet, but I’m curious what will happen if I start seeing him that way. Like, as potentially more than a friend, you know? The only thing is that I don’t wanna ruin our friendship if everything starts going south.”_

_Jackson only nods._

_“So, what do you think?” Mark asks him, eyes open and trusting as he waits for Jackson’s advice._

_“Go for it. Why not?”_

~~

The wedding is perfect.

Most of the guests are in tears during the vows, the eyes of both grooms shining as the “I dos” are exchanged. And the dancing afterwards is an absolute riot.

But most importantly, Jackson plays his role as the ridiculous best man to perfection.

It’s easier than people think, than the dramas on tv and the angsty teenage fiction books make it seem. Jackson feels no sudden urge flip tables or stomp out or stop the wedding and declare his undying love for Mark. Or maybe it’s just that Jackson has played this role so long so well that he slips into character without even trying, guffaws and dirty insinuations that make Mark and Jinyoung blush rolling off his tongue with ease.

The wedding feels like a dream and at most it seems like it couldn’t be anything more than a rehearsal, because it’s all too surreal and his mind is numb even as he’s rolling his hips on the dance floor, making everyone point and laugh while he wiggles his eyebrows. Some remote, remote part of him is screaming NO and his heart pings painfully at random intervals, but it’s all shoved into the back of his mind, ignored as Jackson throws his entire self into making people laugh, making those beautiful lips turn upwards and _those eyes_ crinkle in joy. Jackson forces himself to forget where his is, what’s happening, once again hiding behind his own delusions as he pretends those smiles and laughs are _for_ him, not just _because of_ him.

The night passes in a blur and the next thing Jackson knows he’s standing in his apartment, legs buckling as the dream ends and gravity pull him back, his mind and body are finally reconnecting in a panic attack of revelation that it’s over _._

_It’s over._

Jackson finally breaks down, choked sobs forcing their way up his throat as his vision blurs, fingers clutching at nothing as his nails claw the floorboards. He’s hyperventilating, coughing as his breath catches and his eyes burn.

_It’s over._

~~

Jackson is drunk.

But he’s not drunk the way he wants to be drunk.

When he left his apartment he’d only had one plan in mind; find a bar, get wasted, get laid, and get so hungover the next day he’d feel like utter crap, so crappy that the only coherent thought he’d be able to make would be _I feel crappy_.

Instead, he’s sitting here in front of the Han River with a crate of beer beside him, brooding like the loser he is.

It’s a bit humid so the cool breeze that swings through should feel nice, but instead it almost burns. Jackson’s not quite sure why it feels that way, but maybe it’s because he’s drunk. Because he’s drunk and thinking about Mark. About his stupid face and his stupid smile and how they’d always come to the Han River together and eat chicken and drink cola and the way Mark shoots him that one look when he’s annoyed with him and that one other super exasperated look when Jackson’s being an idiot like usual and that one smile, that one special smile Mark reserves just for Jackson when they’re laying together under the blue sky watching the clouds drift by and when they both failed that one class and when they graduated together and when their limbs were tangled together as they dragged each other under in the pool and their breathing synchronized as they panted after the race and how that one time Jackson was pushing Mark on the swings even though they’re both adults and then somehow Mark was pushing Jackson too and the wind rushing by Jackson’s face was so similar to the breeze now and maybe that’s why it burns because Mark’s laughter isn’t entangled with his in the breeze.

Drunk Jackson is an honest Jackson and so he laughs, the wretched sound echoing across the river bank as he laughs at himself, laughs at how he’s here when years ago, if he’d only had the courage to say something perhaps roles would be reversed. Because he had _just_ as much of a chance as Jinyoung; they’d been the same, right? Both friends of Mark, except Jinyoung had made the first step in crossing that boundary.

He laughs because the regret is overwhelming, perhaps more so than the pain of loss because really, he never had Mark so how could he have lost him?

Jackson’s eyes focus on the ominous, dark water in front of him and an idea crosses his mind. He considers, brain moving sluggishly as he ponders the idea, turns it around repeatedly as he examines the possibilities.

But even in his drunken state Jackson knows he’d never do it. Because he loves living too much to just give up like that. Because he knows even if he loves Mark so much it pains him physically, he’ll survive. Because unlike the fairytales and the movies and stories of true love, he doesn’t think about Mark 24/7, his heart doesn’t feel like it’s on fire every single second of the day and it doesn’t seem like a huge chunk of him is now missing.

Instead it’s a dull ache, an ache that he forgets about for hours at a time but intensifies into a throbbing pain when he focuses on it. But like any wound Jackson knows it will ease with time, even if it will never completely fade. Even if he’ll never be the same again.

But most importantly, it would make Mark sad. Jackson can already picture his face twisted into grief, placing the blame on himself even though he may never know how close to the truth his self-blame may be. Because Jackson has no plans of telling anyone, ever.

Because even in the end, Jackson is a coward.


End file.
